Darkness is a liar;

it tells you the room has changed.

But the switch is where it’s always been—

pinned between your faith

and your memory.

You are not lost.

You are just fumbling

until your hand remembers

exactly where the Light resides.

Lord, keep me different,
‘cause I already tried normal
and honestly…
It was exhausting.

Keep me laughing at the wrong times
(not too wrong, I still want friends),
tripping over my own feet
but calling it choreography.

When everyone zigzags,
keep me confidently zigging,
even if I forget why I started zigging
halfway through.

Keep my weird thoughts weird,
my jokes slightly delayed,
and my personality
a little hard to explain.

If I mess up—
which I will, repeatedly—
keep me humble enough to laugh
and wise enough not to tweet about it.

Lord, keep me different,
not chaotic enough to cause concern,
just unique enough
that people say,
“Yeah… that’s very you.”

And if being myself
makes life awkward sometimes,
keep me remembering
awkward is way better
than boring.

Amen…
and also sorry in advance.

Lord—
keep me different.

Because every time I try to blend in,
I stick out harder.
Like a highlighter
in a black-and-white textbook.

Keep me weird but approachable.
Not “lock the doors” weird—
more like
“oh… you’re like that” weird.

When everyone follows the trend,
keep me five steps behind,
asking questions like,
“Wait—why are we doing this again?”

Keep me confident enough
to laugh at myself
before anyone else can.
Save me from taking life too seriously—
I already do that by accident.

If I trip in public
(and I will),
keep me bowing like it was planned.
Standing ovation in my head.

Lord, keep my jokes landing…
eventually.
Even if they arrive late
and need explaining.

Keep me different,
not because I’m better,
but because pretending
is way too much work.

Let my life be proof
that awkward can still be joyful,
that strange can still be kind,
and that being myself
is not a flaw—
it’s the punchline and the point.Amen.
And thank You
for not making me normal.

Many people pack their pain in neat little boxes, store them away in the attics of their mind. They go about their day-to-day life with those things being out of sight and out of mind. The reality is they are yet there. No amount of suppressing or pressing them out of your mind will make them go away, Some folks’ mental attic is full to the brim. It’s reminiscent of a public storage container. In a lot of cases chalked full of memories. Often times those memories are unpleasant. Many people hold tight to the baggage of the past, never finding the time or the courage to unpack their trauma. In many cases, the memories are too painful to revisit.

In talking to folks in my circle or sphere of influence, I’ve found that many of them have lost their identity. They don’t know who they are separate from their trauma. It’s has become their new normal. They do not know how to live without the baggage from those events. For many, those events are what they pull out of their arsenal in conversations with others. Some use those events to gain sympathy from others. Others use the events to validate their anger, bitterness and dysfunction. At that point the pain becomes a crutch that allows those persons to limp through life.

At the time of writing this chapter, I am currently in the hospital recovering from a broken ankle. I’m presently going through rehab so I can return to a place of normalcy where I able to eventually put pressure on said ankle so I can walk again. In the meantime, I am unable to live my life fully as I choose. I don’t have the freedom to skip, hop, walk, run or dance. I’m wounded and in pain. Wounded and in pain, sound familiar? Both of our abilities to live our best life has been stymied by our wounds and our pain. We appear to be happy, but the underlying truth is we are living with the pain and pretending to be okay.

Unpacking trauma has been something I’ve been avoiding for a long time. Yes, I wrote my story in Damaged Goods: Damaged But Valuable, but God is requiring me to dig deeper and to tell more of my story. I was intentional in what I told before. I shared some very hurtful and painful truths. Now I’m being required to reach in that trauma box once again to unpack more of my life. I’m not sure if I can do it. Damaged Goods wore me completely out. There was so much darkness in my life while writing that book. Many days found me suicidal, depressed and unwilling to face the day. I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to revisit that place. Unfortunately, I must.

As someone who used to lie profusely, there were a whole lot of truths buried underneath. You see, a lie is told to keep someone ignorant of the truth. The truth could be a number of things. I’ve learned that secrets and taboos were a big part of my hidden truths.

The “no, I’m not being touched by anyone” lie covered up the fact my uncle, cousin and step-brother were touching me inappropriately. The “I’m okay” lie covered up the truth that I was contemplating suicide and had already attempted a few times.

I bet you if you dig really deep, you’ll find truths in the shadows of the lies you’ve told. No matter how our stories differ from or mirror each other, there is some form of trauma there that takes us back, if only momentarily, to a place where we spouted out lies to bury our truth.

The Shift to Radical Honesty

Choosing to move away from those shadows is a process of Radical Honesty. It isn’t just about telling the truth; it’s about refusing to hide. But I’ve learned that even when you want to be honest, your body sometimes remembers the old danger.

Even now, after I speak my truth, I feel a “danger sensation” in the pit of my stomach. My survival brain expects the punishment that used to come with being seen. I often feel the urge to “take it back,” to slide the mask back on and retreat.

But I’ve reached a point where I finally prefer the discomfort of the truth over the “safety” of the lie. The lie is a prison you have to maintain; the truth is a release.

Advice for the Person Still Hiding

If you are currently living underneath your own lies, know that you aren’t a “bad person”—you are a survivor. When you are ready to start unearthing your truth, remember:

• Start with yourself: You don’t have to tell the world yet. Radical honesty starts by admitting the truth to yourself in the mirror.

• Expect the “Stomach Knot”: Your body will panic when you speak. Breathe through it. This is just your old armor reacting to being set down.

• Trust is earned: You don’t owe your entire story to everyone. Honest boundaries allow you to be truthful (“I’m struggling”) without sharing every detail until you feel safe.

• Forgive the armor: Don’t beat yourself up for the lies you told to stay alive. They got you this far.

The Art of Letting Go

Ultimately, I’ve realized that honesty is an act of release.

Throughout our lives, we will always run across an occasion to let go of something. Be it goals, plans, old shoes or clothes, relationships etcetera, letting go is never easy. The reasons for the disconnect run the gamut, but anguish of letting go is prevalent across the board.

Holding on can be our way of holding tight to an important moment in life or as a way of reminding ourselves of the past. For me, the lies were how I held onto a version of myself that felt “protected.” But by finally letting them go, I am making room for a life lived in the light.

We don’t have to hide anymore.

At one time or another in life we will all experience darkness. As we navigate the losses life presents us, darkness will find its way into our atmosphere. There will be moments when depression sets in or at least attempts to. Trust me when I say I know a little something about depression. I have been battling it for a great part of my life. Try as I must to shake it, it finds its way back around the bend again. Life’s events often ushers depression in more often than I care to deal with it.

Recently, I experienced a series of slip in falls with ultimately ended in a broken ankle. The broken ankle brought with it reconstructive surgery and an extensive physical breakdown of my body. It also brought with it a series of hospital stays, ambulance rides, doctor appointments and medications. My body was under duress. My appetite changed, my mind drifted and my circle of friends and family support dwindled. I felt like the Lone Ranger. Visits from those in my circle where few and far between. Phone calls were all but none existent. It seemed like no one cared. I know that’s far from the truth but the enemy played that song in my head every chance he got.

Upon arriving home the few times I managed to escape the hospital, everything the enemy said proved true. And I was forced to be readmitted. This last time, not only did my health get me readmitted, the suicide attempt was at the forefront of my stay. I was placed on a 51/50 mental health hold. I had never experienced having to have an attendant sit in the room with me around the clock. Nor had I ever experienced everyone who entered the room questioning me about further plans to hurt myself. I was being treated as if I was unstable. Was this what my life had come to? Was I insane? Had I allowed life to break me down beyond repair, again? This wasn’t my first rodeo as far as attempted suicide goes. However, it was the only documented attempt. I had unsuccessfully been trying to take my own life on and of since I was 12.

Mental health is a topic many choose to tip around. No one wants to seem as though their life is out of balance. The stigma of having a label affixed to one’s name screaming to the world that one is mentally deficient scares lots of people. No one wants to be labeled crazy. Oftentimes, I’ve overheard conversations and have even called people crazy, joked about them needing a crazy check and other demeaning things. Though the things I said were meant to be funny, there is nothing funny about those things. I didn’t understand how hurtful they were until myself and a few close family and friends were battling depression and other mental health issues. We must be careful what we allow to escape our lips. Oftentimes, if we are not careful we do more damage than good. What we say when someone is in the throws of a mental breakdown could be the defining factor that either reels them back in or sends them further away. Thus, it is imperative that we be careful how we talk to and treat people because we never know that person’s mental state.

Many in society have become so comfortable with darkness they have no clue that light is an option. The enemy has confused so many, causing them to believe they can’t function in the light of God. That lie is so far from the truth. You can walk and reside in light.

Though the lure of darkness is ever-present, so is the opportunity to choose light. The enemy makes darkness look fun, exciting and enticing but it is quite the contrary. It’s all smoke and mirrors. The reality of the matter is this, the further you travel down the road of darkness, the harder it’ll be to return to the light.

There is a gravitational pull drawing us towards what tickles our fancy. We are drawn by our lusts. When we desire the things of the world we are drawn in that direction. When we set our affections on the things of God, we are drawn in that direction. It’s a light versus dark thing. Darkness leads to death. Light leads to life eternal. It’s a choice. Choose wisely.

Unfortunately, many are trapped in a demonic forcefield due to their affinity for the dark. Secrecy, lies and the lusts of the dark have ensnared them. Many are so lost they have no idea how to get out. Or if getting out is even possible. To those I say, try Yahweh. He’s never lost a case. If you confess Jesus with your mouth, believing in your heart that He is the risen Savior who died for your sins, repent of your sins and turn from your wicked ways, you can be free. You can turn on the light in your life. Will you come? I pray you will.

In my book Damaged Goods: Damaged But Valuable, I talk a lot about darkness and the perils and pitfalls of it. I also talk about the light of God and how it was able to pull me out of my dark places. If He can do it for me, He definitely can do it for you. If you would like to add my book to your library, you can get it on Amazon. It’s both in paperback and ebook formating. God bless.

When I googled the significance of a lighthouse, this is what I found:

“Lighthouses symbolize the way forward and help in navigating our way through rough waters whether those waters be financial, personal, business or spiritual in nature. Nothing else speaks of safety and security in the face of adversity and challenge quite the way a lighthouse does.”

I found that definition to be profound as it lined up with what I had been thinking when I saw the above picture for the first time. A lighthouse illuminates dark areas. It aids in bringing weary travelers to safety. It ushers sojourners home. According to the bible, lights are to be put on a stand atop a hill. Sounds like a lighthouse right?

Each of us that have been adopted in the family of faith through accepting Jesus as our Lord and Savior have also been commissioned to be a lighthouse for those that have not yet found their way to Christ. We are to allow God’s love and light to shine through us so that others may find shelter and safety in God.

In order to be effective we must not allow our personal storms to dim our lighthouse. It is imperative that our lights shine bright continually. Just as the waves are crashing against the lighthouse in the above picture, we like that lighthouse must suffer through the storms of life while yet shining our glorious light from within.

When in doubt I remind myself that I’m a lighthouse. I help usher weary travelers home. Sojourners spot my light as they weather stormy seas. It shows them the way home. I’m a lighthouse but I am not the Source of the light. No I’m not THEE LIGHT. God is THEE LIGHT. I’m a carrier of the light. I’m a lighthouse. The Spiritual Light shines through me. It makes me a radiant light able to be seen by all who are drawn to THEE LIGHT. I am a daughter of Light. I carry the Light EVERYWHERE I go. There’s no dullness in me. My worship shines bright. My praise shines bright. My love, honor and reverence for God is not hidden. I’m a Light carrying disciple of Christ. I guide others through rough terrain. I navigate tumultuous storms then show others how to do the same. I’m a lighthouse. I bring glory to God by doing His bidding in the earth. Through my life and light I work diligently at my assignments. The Light of God in me draws others to me that I may draw them to Him. I am a lamp that holds and carries Light. My light travels distances. It meets people in their dark places. It exposes. It calls out to the deep. It brings with it the promise of shelter in the arms of God. I’m a lighthouse. And so are you.